


paint by numbers

by thunderylee



Category: Japanese Actor RPF, Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, ryoshige roommates, side shige/kanjiya shihori
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2019-01-15 18:25:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12326427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: It’s time for Ryo to think outside the (code) box.





	paint by numbers

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for je-whiteday 2014.

Graduation was so close he could taste it. He’d ordered his robes, sent out invitations, and already had his internship lined up for the summer. All he had to do was make it through finals and he was done with university. Forever.

“It doesn’t count as an internship if it’s for your father,” his roommate reminded him, sipping on yet another energy drink as he holed himself up in his bunk, swaddled in blankets except for his face and hands.

“I wasn’t aware that you served on the executive committee of people whose opinions matter a single fuck to anyone,” Ryo replied coolly without looking up from his own laptop.

“Don’t they teach you anything in those business classes?” Shige shot back without missing a beat. “Everyone is a potential consumer.”

Kato Shigeaki was a freshman and Ryo wasn’t positive that his face didn’t actually have a grey glow to it from the constant exposure to a computer screen. Normally a senior wouldn’t room with a freshman, especially one of those computer programming nerds, but there had been a minor situation with the unofficial fraternity house Ryo had lived in up until this semester. Since all of the kegger fundraisers on campus wouldn’t get it rebuilt before summer, Ryo had to find other accommodations.

Shige wasn’t that bad of a roommate, all things considered. Those things mostly included the neverending clicking of laptop keys and the fact that he  _never left the room_. For a while Ryo thought that Shige was actually enrolled in distance learning courses and just chose to live in the dorm. Given the wild hellions Ryo had lived with before now, though, he picked his battles. At least Shige showered and minded his own business. For the most part.

“I am certain that you are not included in our target market,” Ryo told him, gathering his books to go to class. “Our products are for people who eat more than cup ramen.”

A snort followed him out the door and Ryo grinned all the way to the computer science building. Nothing put him in a better mood than one-upping someone first thing in the morning. He supposed he should be grateful that Shige humored him at all, but it seemed that Shige liked to argue as much as Ryo did. Must be the Osakan blood, which was about the only thing they had in common.

His smile faded upon entering his 8am class. Taking introductory web design for his last elective had been a good idea in theory, but it was proving to be his most difficult class. Ryo wasn’t computer illiterate by any means, just incapable of understanding all of the coding required to build a website. It was like English all over again.

Professor Mizukawa noticed his drastic change in expression and folded her arms upon his entry. “Don’t look so thrilled, Nishikido-kun,” she greeted him. “One might actually think you wanted to be here.”

“Can I sit down before you start picking on me?” Ryo asked in return, taking his seat in the back row where he can tool around on his laptop and not distract anyone. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you had a crush on me.”

A few of the other students laughed at that and Professor Mizukawa just rolled her eyes. She was way too young to be a full-fledged educator, but she had been one of those child prodigies who skipped a couple grades and had earned her first university degree by the age of seventeen. Ryo had been wondering when the real professor was going to show up for two entire weeks before he realized that Mizukawa wasn’t just a graduate student assisting someone else.

And she loved to call out Ryo on his inadequacy. Ryo understood this to an extent, because if he had someone like himself in his class he’d probably make an example out of him too, but it’s entry-level programming for fuck’s sake. The entire class was made up of wannabe computer nerds who couldn’t earn credit by testing out. Like Shige had done, Ryo had been frustrated to learn. It didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, since Ryo’s future had already been decided and his final GPA was irrelevant—he just needed to pass.

The scholastic abuse wasn’t completely undeserved, either. Ryo didn’t provoke her, but he also didn’t keep his mouth shut when she challenged his business-focused mind. “In today’s electronic world, online shopping counts for over fifty percent of profits. With those statistics, Nishikido-kun, how do you expect to attract and retain clients without an aesthetically-pleasing website?”

“Human relations,” Ryo answered easily. “Sales has and always will be about personal interaction. Networking and forming professional relationships.”

“Ninety percent of consumers say they would rather purchase luxuries online than physically go to a store,” Mizukawa went on. “What is your response to that?”

“Statistics are bullshit,” Ryo declared. “Are they including the older generation in these surveys? My father runs a billion-yen company and rarely sends an email. There are many families in the rural area of Japan who don’t even own computers. Are we going to ostracize those potential consumers from our market because we blew our budget on animated graphics and chat boxes?”

Someone whistled and a couple chairs shifted uncomfortably, but Professor Mizukawa just smiled. “Based on your argument, does your father’s company plan on evolving into the twenty-first century once that older generation dies out and those rural families acclimate to the electronic age?”

“I’ll tell you what,” Ryo said, leaning back onto two legs of his seat. “If we ever need a website that does more than provide general information, I’ll put in a good word for you to build it.”

That had Mizukawa laughing out loud, almost falling over herself as she walked back to her podium to switch out powerpoints. She was small and mousy with straight hair and glasses, but her voice carried and her personality shone brighter than the drab clothes she usually wore. Ryo would bet money that she was Osakan too.

“I’m flattered,” she told him, “but that would be a job more suited to anyone else in this class.”

The implication that Ryo should be able to do it himself reigned loud and clear, but she just used his example to reiterate the basics of flash and he let their debate fall. Wrong or not, she was the professor and he was the student. Even if they live in two different worlds.

“Hey, you interested in a gig building a website?” Ryo asked Shige later that evening.

“I’m not doing your final project for you,” was Shige’s firm answer.

“It’s not for that,” Ryo lied. “My father is looking to branch out into online sales and it would put you at the top of the list for summer internships.”

“That would be a nice offer if a single word of it were true.” Shige clicked a few things on his laptop and sighed. “And no offense, but I’d rather work at the gas station than your old man’s stuffy 1980s-run company.”

Ryo narrowed his eyes upward. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that your stubbornness and unwillingness to do anything for yourself is a huge indicator of your father’s internal operations,” Shige explained. “Does he even have an IT department?”

“We pay someone to fix the computers when they don’t work,” Ryo offered, frowning at Shige’s eyeroll. “Oh, come on! There has to be something I can give you that you want. I have four other finals to study for that are epically more important than memorizing the attributes for division tables.”

“I’m impressed you know what divisions are,” Shige replied, “but my answer is still no. Besides, I’m busy with my own finals.”

“Freshman finals aren’t for two weeks,” Ryo pointed out. “You’re not that much of an overachiever.”

“My girlfriend is visiting the weekend after you move out. Her university is on a different schedule, so it’s the only week she can take leave.”

“Wait a second, you have a girlfriend?!” Ryo exclaimed, unable to hide his awe. “How do you have a girlfriend? You never leave your bed!”

“The Internet is a beautiful thing,” Shige said sarcastically. “For your information, she was two years ahead of me in high school and we reunited on LINE.”

“Online?” Ryo repeated. “But how can you be dating if you never see each other?”

“Not online, on  _LINE_.” Shige sighs again. “It’s an instant messaging program. We can video chat and stream movies together.”

“But you can’t touch,” Ryo argued. “You can’t date someone you can’t touch.”

Shige shrugged. “Touching isn’t important to everyone, Nishikido-kun.”

“I don’t understand you,” Ryo said honestly, then returned to glaring at his final project assignment. “There’s nothing I can do to get you to do this project for me?”

“I’ll answer your questions as you do it yourself,” Shige said pointedly, “and I’ll check it periodically along the way.”

Ryo frowned at his laptop. “What’s her name, anyway? Your girlfriend.”

“Kanjiya Shihori,” Shige answered, his stoneface softening just from speaking her name. “She’s a junior in the economics department at a women’s university and likes to argue more than you do.”

“Shihori-chan must have low standards,” Ryo chided, but Shige just ignored him and went back to whatever he was doing. Ryo tried to do the same, but all of the code just swam in front of his eyes. “So how do I start?”

Shige waited approximately five seconds before answering. “If I were you, I’d use your dad’s current website and redesign it. As long as you don’t just copy and alter the existing code, it should count as an original project. Unless you want to start a fictitious company.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Ryo asked. “It would be a waste of time.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Innovation isn’t really your specialty.”

Ryo was pretty sure that Shige was insulting him, but he didn’t have time to get into another debate about his intelligence right now. Especially now that he has to do this entire project from scratch. He had thought it would be easy, just copying codes from the book and Googling specific variables, but everything he tried came out as a big mess.

While Shige stayed true to his offer to help, it only took a few hours for Ryo to get sick of his sarcasm and belittling and sought refuge in the library. Just his luck, Professor Mizukawa was in there as well, stamping what looked like an entire semester’s worth of papers at one of the tables.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who waits until the last minute,” he couldn’t help but chastise her, keeping his voice down for the other students who were cramming. “I would have thought you’d grade all of your essays electronically? Save the trees and all.”

“University requires a paper trail,” she grumbled. “Seems like the dean operates at the same level of technological advancement as your father.”

Her frustration made him feel much better. “Now, now, you shouldn’t speak ill of your boss while on the clock.”

Her scoff was so juvenile that Ryo couldn’t help but laugh as he plopped down at the same table, waking up his laptop and pointing it toward her. She peered at it for a few seconds before her face lit up, presumably realizing that it was his feeble attempt to code on his own.

“Help. Please?” He flashed her his best smile. “I’m trying, see?”

She looked like she wanted to sigh, but held it together out of professional courtesy and dumped half of her stack in front of him. “You help me, I help you.”

“‘C—try harder next time’,” Ryo read out loud as he stamped the first paper. “Talk about personable. This is totally relevant feedback.”

“I give my feedback in emails,” Mizukawa told him. “This is just to appease management.”

“This seems wholly unnecessary,” Ryo said when his arm started hurting and he hadn’t even put a dent in his portion of the stack. “Why can’t you just print out the emails?”

“Trust me, I’ve used an entire stack’s worth of trees filling the suggestion box since I’ve been teaching here.” His professor shook out her wrist as she changed stamps to ‘B—you can do better’. “I’m sure you appreciate the value of just giving up and accepting the way things are, right?”

He pauses with the stamp halfway in the air. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that this entire term I’ve seen nothing from you that would even suggest an openness to improvement or organizational change. You have your job at Daddy Inc. and you seem to strive for nothing else. Do you even have goals?”

“I have goals,” Ryo said with an affronted scoff, “and I’m starting to get a little pissed off that everyone is getting on my case about this. Isn’t it supposed to be my parents who lecture me? Ironically, they’ve been nothing but completely supportive. Joining the family business was my decision.”

“That’s not surprising,” Mizukawa replied. “It’s the path that takes the least amount of effort on your part.”

“You know  _nothing_  about my father’s company,” Ryo growled, struggling to keep from raising his voice. “Sales is hard work. I’ll have to travel all over the country and make presentations, conduct demonstrations and follow up to ensure client satisfaction. I don’t have the luxury of sitting behind a computer all day.”

“Imagine how much easier it would be if you did,” was Mizukawa’s response. “Everything you just said can be done online at the convenience of the client.”

Ryo shoved the stack of papers more aggressively than he probably should toward a professor in a library. “Here. My turn.”

Surprisingly she didn’t argue, just turned Ryo’s laptop to face her and started pointing out the areas where Ryo’s code was wrong. She didn’t tell him how to fix it, but she did point him to the section in their textbook where the answer was and elaborated on why that code went with that particular function. It was infinitely more helpful than Shige had been, with considerably less attitude. He supposed that this was her job, but she certainly didn’t have to devote her spare time to making sure that he understood the concepts and why they’re important to end up with an error-free code.

“I have to say, I didn’t expect you to go this far,” she admitted once they had a semblance of a website to work with. “Don’t chat boxes go against everything you believe in?”

“It’s one of the required components listed on your project guidelines,” he told her. “I’m just doing it to pass your class, because you can’t just give a final exam like everyone else.”

Her smile was out of place until she spoke. “I guess you do have goals, after all.”

His code was nowhere near error-free by the time she had to leave, but Ryo could actually see it doing things on his test page and it was a little surreal. He imagined this is how chemists felt the first time something they combined had a reaction. Typing in some words and having it come up as intricately-formatted boxes with pictures in them that link to other places was kind of powerful.

By the night before it was due, Ryo probably had enough working components to earn at least a C—try harder next time. But this wasn’t about his grade anymore. He wanted to show Professor Mizukawa and Shige and all of the nerds in his class that he was more than just some kid who was coasting through life riding on his daddy’s coattails. He had imagination and creativity, dammit. And even if it was technically a waste of time, even if he would never do anything like this again, succeeding at it just once was enough to prove them all wrong.

“You’re kidding, right?” Shige stared at him in awe upon hearing the news that Ryo had asked for a two-day extension on his final.

“I know, I know, you’re impressed with my dedication.” Ryo sighed. “I’m impressed myself, honestly, but I just feel like it could be perfect if I just fixed a few more—”

“Because I care about that,” Shige cut him off, narrowing his eyebrows that look even angrier like that. “You’re supposed to be gone today! Shihori-san will be here this afternoon.”

Ryo grinned. “Then I will just get to meet her! I can’t wait, actually. Are you cooking her dinner in your toaster oven or treating her to cafeteria food?”

“Why did Tegoshi-kun have to transfer to the girls dorm?” Shige asked wistfully. “He—she—was such a good roommate.”

“As much as I’d love to be the third wheel on your lined date or whatever it’s called,” Ryo started briskly, “I have work to do that requires the strength of the computer lab wifi.”

“I’m tempted to finish it for you so you’ll get the fuck out already,” Shige muttered, rolling his eyes when Ryo’s lit up in hope, “but I don’t want to ruin this ambitious streak you have going on here. This is the most I’ve seen you pay attention to an assignment all term.”

“Spite is an incredible motivator,” Ryo told him.

Shige hid a smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”

True to his word, Ryo spent the entire day in the computer lab. He would have forgotten to eat if a mysterious delivery hadn’t been sent to him. The delivery guy would not reveal his sources, only that he was prepaid and tipped already, and Ryo grinned as he looked in to see his least favorite toppings on fried rice. Whoever had sent him this didn’t know him at all.

That didn’t stop him from inhaling it, starving after an entire day of staring at a white box and Googling codes. The stylesheet updated properly now, but he still wasn’t satisfied with it. He wanted Professor Mizukawa to gasp in shock when she saw how above and beyond he had gone for this simple assignment—at least, it seemed simple now that Ryo had spent all of this time researching additional components to add to it.

The thing was, Ryo was starting to see a little value in conducting certain aspects of sales over the Internet. Someone who may not be that interested in his product, for one thing. Why waste all of that time and effort travelling to see someone who might not buy? That potential consumer could go online and ask questions before scheduling a demonstration. Not  _all_  business had to be conducted impersonally.

It was that compromise that had Ryo adding all of the bells and whistles to what was turning out to be an actual prototype for his father’s company. The Nishikido family sold affordable cookware, particularly rice cookers, and prided themselves on quality. There was no reason he couldn’t portray that quality via electronic means, scanning some pictures he’d taken for one of his management finals last year and making them look even better in a photo editor.

“Done,” he declared around 3am, mostly because he’d throw his laptop across the room if he had to hit ‘update’ one more time. It wasn’t a fancy website by any means, actually the exact opposite to appeal to older consumers, but the point was that it was easy to navigate. The one required flash element was a stick figure rice kernel that Ryo had drawn himself that was wondering out loud what he wanted to be cooked in today.

After submitting the code, he imposed on his friend Yamapi’s fraternity house and had a beer before passing out on the floor. He would pack his things and head back to Hyougo in the morning, or maybe the afternoon, when it was less likely that he would disturb Shige and his lady friend. Sometimes Ryo could be a good guy.

He wasn’t at all surprised to see two faces with that weird grey glow when he finally stumbled into the dorm room well after lunchtime. “At least you’re in bed together,” he greeted them.

Shige heaved a sigh of exasperation while the girl next to him laughed. “Senpai, this is Nishikido Ryo, my roommate.”

“The one you’ve heard all sorts of awful things about,” Ryo went on, bowing his head slightly because he’s not  _rude_. “They’re all true.”

Shihori was a cute girl, way too good looking for Shige, her long dark hair framing her face and bright eyes shining. She was curled up in the top bunk next to Shige, leaning her head on his shoulder as they both stared intently at his laptop. It was almost adorable in a PG-rated way. Like little kids who hold hands.

“Shige-kun was telling me about your sudden interest in web design,” Shihori told him, a slight smirk on her lips telling Ryo that her intention was purely satirical. “Are you sure your interest isn’t in the professor?”

Ryo stared at her like she had just told him his interest was in a centipede. “What?”

“Nothing.” She flashed him a big smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Actually, a centipede probably wouldn’t argue with him nearly as much, he thought to himself as he packed his clothes. He travelled light, not wanting to bother with too much luggage at the end of term, which he was thanking himself for now as he dragged two suitcases and a duffle bag down to the lobby. He had somewhere to stop before he headed out of town.

Professor Mizukawa was hunched over her desk, her eyes glazed over as she scrolled and clicked on her laptop. She jumped when she noticed Ryo in the doorway, but there was a hint of pleasant surprise in her eyes as she waved for him to come in.

“Long night?” he asked her, biting back the offer to grab her a coffee. Shige’s stupid girlfriend’s stupid assumption was clearly clouding his mind. “You were out all night partying, weren’t you?”

She snorted in the most unattractive way possible, which had Ryo almost laughing at her completely unladylike nature. Who would even consider this mess of a woman romantically? She seemed to be more of Shige’s type, if Ryo were thinking objectively.

“You try spending eight hours grading two hundred finals and tell me if your eyes don’t feel like exploding,” she replied, shoving her laptop away as she rubbed at her face. “Your class isn’t the only one who had to build a website, you know.”

“That’s what you get for not giving an exam,” he told her. “Did you get mine? I just wanted to make sure before I headed home for the…forever.”

Somehow those words felt weird to say, like there was something tying him to this university and making him want to stay. All Ryo had wanted to do since he got here four years ago was leave, be done with school and move on to his adult life of working for his dad, but now it didn’t feel like that was the best choice for him anymore. After years of following only one path, there was suddenly another door off to the side that was luring him over.

“I got it,” she said, and something swelled inside of Ryo as he anticipated her next words. “Good luck with your career, Nishikido-kun. You will undoubtedly carry on your father’s legacy well.”

Ryo frowned at her. “That’s it? Did you even look at the website yet?”

“No?” Mizukawa gave him an incredulous look. “You were the last one to submit, right? First come, first serve. I will send you an email with my feedback when I get to yours. Unless you would prefer your usual method of carrier pigeon.”

“An email is fine,” Ryo said, trying to contain his disappointment. “I just thought you’d be satisfied with what I built.”

That had her raising an eyebrow, intrigued enough to skip around on her laptop and pull up a file. Ryo recognized the fruits of his efforts for the past week loading before his eyes, that familiar feeling of pride filling him as she clicked the links and everything worked properly.

After a few seconds, he noticed that she wasn’t clicking anymore and saw that she was looking at him instead. He tilted his head in confusion, wondering if he had something weird on his face, but then she smiled and Ryo forgot everything else.

“Nishikido-kun, do you know why teachers choose projects over exams?” she asked, and he shook his head no. “We want to see that the students can actually do what we are teaching them, not just memorize information. Learning isn’t just retaining a bunch of things, it’s actively pushing yourself to use what you learn to create something on your own. You understand this now, right?”

Ryo nodded, finally understanding why he felt so strongly about this particular project. “I think so.”

“That being said, there is nothing more rewarding to a teacher than seeing a student do exactly that,” Mizukawa told him. “Particularly a stubborn student living in the stone age such as yourself.”

“Does that mean it’s good?” Ryo asked hopefully. “Am I going to get an ‘A—amazing work’ stamp for my permanent file?”

She turned to peer at the website again. “It’s a little boring, but considering the nature of your father’s business, it seems perfect for your consumer base. But you already thought of that, didn’t you?”

Ryo preened. “I did.”

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed with your score, Nishikido-kun,” she said, “but I won’t be moving you up the grading list. Now if you don’t have any other business with me, I’ll have to ask you to leave. As you can see, I am quite busy.”

“Coffee?” Ryo blurted out suddenly, feeling a heat rush to his face the minute the word escaped his lips. “I mean, would you like some? You look exhausted.”

She peered at him for a second, then set her lips in a line. “You are not officially graduated yet, Nishikido-kun. Until I submit your final grade, you are still my student.”

“I was going to bring you coffee, not a ring,” he grumbled, scratching the back of his head. “If I wanted to seduce an A out of you, I wouldn’t have been up all night working on that damn website.”

She laughed at that, then shook her head. “You are something else.”

“Black? Cream? Enough sugar to make that code jump out at you?” Ryo grinned as she started to give in. “Pick your poison,  _Professor_.”

In response, she turned her laptop enough so that Ryo couldn’t see her screen anymore. A few clicks later and she stood up, stretching with some uncomfortable sounding cracks. “There’s a great place off campus. If I have to drink cafeteria coffee one more time, I will pull out my hair.”

“Did you just submit my final grade?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yes, and you will find out at the end of the week along with everyone else,” she said firmly. “Now let’s go before I change my mind.”

Ryo smirked. “About the grade, or about getting coffee with me?”

“The grade is set in stone,” was her only answer as she grabbed her jacket.

One year later, Ryo spun around in his office chair and loosened his tie. Sales was every bit as difficult as he’d expected it to be, but much more rewarding. He had easily adapted to the businessman lifestyle of suits and happy hour, even if it was only temporary.

“You wanted to see me, son?” his father asked as he walked into the office and took a seat. The senior Nishikido was a plump old man, cheerful and stern when he needed to be. There was no other way to run a business, in Ryo’s opinion. “Do you have everything in order before you leave for teacher school?”

“I do,” Ryo told him. “I just wanted to show you something before I go.”

He turned his laptop around and loaded his final project for intro web design, which was on an actual domain this time. His father peered curiously at the screen before clicking around. “What is this?”

“The future,” Ryo answered cryptically. “And the entire reason I want to be a teacher.”

His father smiled at him. “I hope you’ll start by educating your old man on how to use this thing.”

As Ryo started from the very beginning, exuding patience he never would have had one year ago, he resigned himself to a lifetime of retribution for his own stubbornness in the form of students just like his father. However, that was nothing compared to what his girlfriend put up with on a daily basis.


End file.
